"Time is a very precious gift – so precious that it is only given to us moment by moment."

Amelia Barr

"Merry Christmas, Sarah!"

She winced at the sound, her hand instantly trying to press the vein back into her temple. She gratefully accepted a cup of coffee a moment later. Karen offered a sympathetic look and passed along a bottle of Excedrin.

Sarah collapsed into a chair and swallowed two with a full glass juice. Her mouth was drier than the Sahara.

Snippets of the night before rolled through her head like rocks. Too many glasses of Champagne. The Goblin King singing. SINGING! Kissing him on the dance floor. Kissing him again in bedroom... Wanting so much more.

And then… her brow furrowed. Which hurt. A lot.

Oh, my god.

That had quickly becoming her tag line.

A vague memory of being carefully tucked into bed… her face being wiped with a cool cloth. Mumbling apologies.

Mortification settled over her like a thick blanket.

"Good morning." His voice, normally like velvet, chafed her ears like cheap polyester. She glanced up. He smiled back - annoyingly perfect. And annoyingly amused.

She'd showered in the morning but still felt entirely unfit by comparison. She rose jerkily and then whispered into his ear. "About last night. I'm so sorry."

"About what? Ruining what would otherwise have been a rather perfect night, or ruining a perfect pair of shoes."

A different kind of mortification settled.

"About that… I had way too much to drink and I-"

Jareth stiffened slightly. "Make poor decisions when you do. Yes, I do remember Chad." His pale brow arched, like he was disappointed in her. "It's forgotten already."

That wasn't what she meant. Not in the least.

Before she could add anything else, Karen pulled a tray of bacon out of the oven. "Grease. I need grease," Sarah said desperately.

Toby came bounding down the stairs as though drawn by the smell. The days of Santa were behind him, but the magic of Christmas morning remained. He looked a little wilted himself. Sarah eyed him suspiciously.

"Where is everyone? Look what Santa brought!" Robert called jovially from the living room. It was tradition. He always made a big show of it. Every year like clockwork. Regardless that both his children knew he had always been Santa.

"The baby Jaysus came first!" Lizzie reminded sternly.

They all moved into the living room and settled into the various sofas and chairs. Robert began passing out gifts. The bottom of the tree was laden – Karen had obviously added more after they'd gone to bed…

…While Sarah was busy emptying the contents of her stomach onto the floor. And apparently his majesty's brogues. She winced again.

Toby was highly pleased with the new video games Sarah had gotten him. Karen was notably relieved to find she'd not received another waffle iron. Even if her husband of 15 years had gotten her the wrong birthstone.

Lizzie had given everyone some beautiful prints from home. She'd also, to everyone's surprise, given Karen a pearl necklace. "T'was me mother's," she explained. I'd always meant to give it to yer mother," she looked at Sarah sympathetically, "but it suits Karen's colouring better I think."

Karen looked like she was going to cry.

"Plus those are good Catholic pearls mind," Lizzie added.

Lizzie also gave Sarah a lovely gold necklace with a finely wrought Celtic knot work pendant. "Also me mother's. Yer great granny's. You very much have her colouring."

Toby was quite satisfied by the 'heirloom' envelope of cash instead.

Sarah next opened a package from her parents which turned out to be polar bear fleece pyjamas.

"Since you seemed to like the penguins set so much," Karen explained brightly.

Jareth covered a laugh. "I've grown rather fond of them myself."

The smile slid off his face when he saw that he'd received a matching set.

"This one is also for Jareth. From Sarah," Robert said, passing the box over.

Sarah had almost forgotten then she'd purchased generic gifts after she'd placed the ad. It would look suspicious otherwise. There were an array of boring but acceptable gifts from Jareth to her under the tree as well. Things she could use or return, but would in no way be romantic or meaningful. She'd been very careful to write from and not love on any of them.

The not-king opened the box. It was a cardigan in the most basic and neutral colour she could find. Something Mr. Rogers might wear.

"How… nice."

The next box was a matching scarf in the same dull shade.

"Ah, and this one says to Sarah from Jareth." Robert handed the box over.

She opened it idly, expecting the blouse she'd picked out for herself, but then shut the lid with force. It was most certainly not a blouse. And certainly nothing she'd bought. "Thank you. Okay, what did you get, Toby?"

"Well show us, Sarah," Karen insisted.

"No, that's okay… really. There are so many other presents to open."

Her stepmother would not be swayed.

Sarah quickly lifted the contents and then stuffed them back into the box. Karen's cup rattled in its saucer. Lizzie sniffed. Robert pretended to see nothing. Toby looked mortified.

Red lingerie. Not a bright garish colour, like Sarah's cheeks had turned, but a deep burgundy that echoed her dress from the night before. It was entirely made of fine lace. Of obvious quality. As a result the material was almost entirely sheer.

"For when it's too hot for the penguins," Jareth remarked slyly. "Or now the polar bears."

"Just how feckin' hot do you think it gets here." Lizzie's brows met her hairline.

"It's very hot in Australia," Jareth replied smoothly.

Karen put her cup down excitedly. "So does this mean you're going to take her home for a visit with you then?"

Jareth winked as though now conspiring with her step mother. "The thought has certainly crossed my mind."

Sarah looked ready to bolt. Her headache had mostly faded but she was anything but relaxed. Lingerie. Really nice lingerie. In front of her parents. And great aunt. Wonderful. Just wonderful. If anything the hangover no longer seemed so bad.

"Oh, and another one for Jareth."

Sarah squinted at the gift. Should be a book on the Civil War.

The not-king unwrapped the paper.

Oh dear god.

The Kama Sutra.

Lizzie adjusted her glasses. "Is that an Indian cook book? I do enjoy a good curry takeaway. I also like best the books that teach you how to do things for yourself. Useful things."

"I couldn't agree more." Jareth didn't bother to hide the growling look of wicked enjoyment on his face. Not wicked. Sadistic.

Robert now looked ready to bolt. Toby looked torn between being rightly horrified and like he might like to get his hands on it. Karen, who'd been thinking that Christmas morning had taken quite the turn and those were gifts better given in private, segued into gauging her chances of a summer grandchild. Unlikely if they followed the particular illustration on the cover.

"I need more coffee!" Sarah declared loudly and then made her escape.

It was in the hall that she first heard the noises.

The noises that should not be.

She pushed open the bi-swing door into the kitchen. She was back on the other side of it before it had made its full pass.

Which was fortuitous because Karen had followed behind her.

"Just need to get the turkey in the oven." She made to move past her but Sarah blocked the way – hands going wide.

"I'll… I'll do it!"

Karen smiled and shook her head, intent on heading into the kitchen.

"No, no I insist! I've been… practicing. My cooking I mean. Like you always taught me."

Karen frowned. Lessons with teen Sarah had been brief and mostly painful for both.

Sarah affected an easy smile. "I remember everything you showed me. You rest. You've been the perfect hostess. Let me do this. I bet Aunt Lizzie wants a nap about now so you should have some peace and quiet before everyone arrives."

"Alright," she said doubtfully. "What's that noise?"

Sarah panicked. "Peaches. He does that. I've got this. It'll let me…" Sarah forced the words out. "Impress Jareth."

Karen nodded in understanding and disappeared with a wink.

Breathing deeply, Sarah pushed the door open again.

Absolute chaos. It looked like a scene from Gremlins. Only the gremlins were cuter.

Goblins. Everywhere.

They were in the fridge, no doubt eating the contents. They were in the sink. Bathing, it appeared, in Karen's homemade eggnog. One had turned oven mitts into boots and was walking the island like it was an Italian catwalk. One had locked another goblin in the oven and was playing with the dials. Sarah watched the pilot light flickering like it was a lighter at an 80's hair band concert.

A particularly toothy one had taken one bite from every single piece of waxed fruit in the bowl and put them back.

Her cat was in fact in the kitchen. That hadn't been a lie. Peaches, seeing her, shot her a look that said, "this fuckery again?"

"Jareth!" Sarah called shrilly.

The not-king appeared through a doorway a minutes later. "Karen said you were going to impress me with your cooking." He surveyed the scene and then deftly dodged what looked like a dish of sweet potatoes. "I must say your culinary skills leave much to be desired."

She turned and hissed. "FIX THIS. I have to get the turkey in the oven."

Sarah really should have known better. Jareth winced.

The goblins, having finally noticed their monarch and the girl who ate the peach were in the kitchen with them, quieted and listened dutifully. This meant they also followed Sarah's wildly gesticulating arm which pointed as the hitherto unnoticed bird defrosting on the sideboard.

What is a turkey to a goblin but a giant chicken?

The quiet turned to wails of outrage.

"Murderer!"

"Her again!"

"She killed the giant chicken!"

"Burn the witch!"

"Jareth…" Sarah squealed, dancing behind him.

"Enough!" he commanded imperiously, sounding every bit the Goblin King even if he didn't look it.

The goblins fell back, a few still grousing. In the fading chaos that followed, a pair of goblins slid the bird off the counter and slipped outside. When Sarah finally noticed it was missing, a search was begun. It was found outside half buried in the snow. A wooden spoon had been used as a makeshift grave marker. "Big Chiken" was carved into. Or bitten into it more likely. Ironically they had used sprigs of rosemary as flowers. A pair of squirrels were already fighting over it.

Swearing, Sarah dug the turkey out. By that point, the skin was thoroughly torn and it looked like it had died in a cock fight.

When she got back into the kitchen, Jareth had scared his subjects back into submission. "I warned you all to stay away. I suppose it will be another year of boggings for Christmas then."

A particularly stunted goblin squeaked, "But… but… the solstice rituals. You missed them."

Jareth swore and then pinched the bridge of his nose. "How bad is it then?"

"Do you remember the winter of 1894?"

A look of horror crossed the king's face.

"Well, not as bad as that."

The king relaxed.

"But worse than the winter of 1736."

Jareth swore again.

"How old exactly are you?" Sarah asked.

"Not a good time, precious."

She gestured around the room incredulously. "You don't say!" She'd managed to get the turkey into the oven only after explaining they were cremating it. The butter and seasoning were just part of the funeral pyre.

Jareth snapped his fingers in irritation and the goblins disappeared as though they'd never been. Evidence of their visit remained, however. The timing couldn't have been better as Karen popped through the door a minute later. She stopped dead at the site of her ruined kitchen.

"Turkey's in the oven," Sarah offered weakly.

"Right." Karen drew a measured breath. "I'll… I'll just take over, shall I? You've cooked enough today." She directed a sympathetic look at Jareth.

He drew a frazzled Sarah out of the kitchen.

"This is all your fault!"

"For once, I am inclined to take the blame. I failed to perform a simple rite on Long Night to keep the balance in check. A renewal so to speak." He eyed her thoughtfully. "Though I was distracted, so perhaps some of the blame still lies with you."

"Oh, no. Don't try that. You didn't have to come here." Not that she was complaining if she were honest. Although the morning had not exactly added towards his favour.

"Would you like to see me do it?"

Sarah swallowed thickly. The low spoken words were a heady temptation that almost made her forget the kitchen and outrageous gifts. "If this is a way to trick me to the Underground, forget about it."

Jareth gave her a bored look. "If I'd wanted to 'trick you', I certainly would have already. Not that the thought hadn't crossed my mind."

Sarah couldn't tell if he was joking. "How long will it take? My parents always host an afternoon Christmas party for the family." Sarah had been in part dreading introducing him to more relatives.

"Not long at all. I don't even have to go 'home' for it, if that's what you're worried about." She wasn't. Not exactly. She'd actually like to see Labyrinth and its creatures again.

He held out a hand in invitation.

Sometimes it's just easier to dive in. "Okay." His fingers closed around hers.

A swift tug and a pull and the hallway gave way to a still dark early morning winter sky – the sun only just beginning to crown. For a moment she was disoriented. He hadn't lied. They were not in the Underground. They weren't in the US anymore, however, she realized as she recognized the site from photographs.

New Grange. Ireland.

"Oh, my god," she croaked. Though not as cold as home, the winds were blustering. There was a light dusting of snow that covered the passage tomb and the surrounding grounds. They were alone. She watched the sun begin to creep up the horizon. "But how, shouldn't it be late afternoon here?"

"Hurry now," he tugged her along the walkway. He was once again the Goblin King, encased in a long cloak lined in sable fur. Though she'd just been wearing a light sweater and jeans in the hallway, she was now encased in a similarly long fur lined cloak that repelled the sting. Archaic and beautiful. Just like ruins.

The warm glow of the first sunlight hit the ground at their feet. Jareth produced one perfect crystal. He said something in a language Sarah didn't understand and then released it. It hit the snow and then began to roll uphill and through the narrow opening into the tomb.

As though chasing it, the sunlight traced the path of the orb through the doorway.

Jareth led Sarah inside.

When the sunlight struck the crystal, it illuminated the entire space. The triskele spirals – so similar to mini labyrinths - on the wall glowed like spun gold. It was in a word, breathtaking.

Without meaning to she reached and touched the pattern. A pattern that was carved at Brú na Bóinne almost 5000 years before. Her palm tingled, not unpleasantly, but like static electricity that danced up her arm.

Sarah was in awe.

The Goblin King took a deep breath, as though the event had been profound for him as well. Perhaps rejuvenating. If anything he looked all the more imposing.

For a moment, just a moment, she could see the Labyrinth and everything below at the centre of the tomb. It would have been so easy to just pass through the veil. Sarah felt a pull to do so strongly – how easy it would be. She took a step forward.

The Goblin King watched her with hooded eyes.

She stilled.

A short while later the sun passed further and the glow faded, as did the other world. The clock struck a new time.

Sarah turned to the silent king. "How was even that possible? I thought solstice was only on the 21st?"

"Right now it is the 21st." At her incredulous look, his lips twitched. "Perks of the throne. It won't last. Just long enough for the ritual."

As he spoke she felt another tug at her navel. Before she vanished she saw the skies begin to move as though time had been shaken back up, clouds and stars racing across the horizon in roiling colours.

They were back in the hallway.

Sarah teetered, off kilter. Jareth, looking almost human again, steadied her elbow. She was still wide-eyed. "I've always wanted to see that."

"You're welcome."

Then she frowned. "But wait… that's always a big tourist attraction. People come from everywhere to see it. There's even a lottery, Lizzie says. We were alone."

The Goblin King smiled. "Not really. They couldn't see us and we didn't need to see them."

"No…"

"Yes. In fact you were standing quite rudely on an older gentleman's feet the entire time. You would have blocked his view entirely."

"Are you serious?"

"Rarely. But right now yes. There are many such passage tombs… with many purposes," he added. "It wouldn't do to let the rabble know."

Sarah's eyes flickered thoughtfully. "Thank you."

"Now that the ritual is over, I have another gift for you. If you want it."

Sarah blinked at him.

"One I couldn't give you in front of your family."

A snort. "But you could give yourself the Kama Sutra and me gaudy lingerie?"

"You didn't like it? I thought it was rather tasteful in its way. And the colour suits you. I assumed it was your favourite in fact."

"This other gift. Will I like it?" she asked suspiciously. "Or is it more for you."

"I think so."

Sarah nodded. Once again she felt an immediate disorientating tug and the hallway fell away to a new place - this time an opulent theatre. It took Sarah longer to recognize where they were. When she did it was only because of the woman on the stage.

Almost like looking into a mirror. Her mother.

Sarah gripped the polished rail of the box seat. They were in the Her Majesty's Theatre in London. Her mother, dressed in a white gown and hands on hips, was playing Beatrice in Shakespeare's, Much Ado About Nothing. She commanded the stage, her head thrown back and humour in her voice.

"A dear happiness to women: they would else have

been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God

and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I

had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man

swear he loves me."

Sarah clasped a hand over her mouth, smothering a laugh that turned into a choke. Tears welled and then spilled silently down her face.

It had been one of Sarah's favourites. She'd so desperately wanted to fly to London to see her. Where there'd been bruised hearts on both sides to be mended. Her mother had wanted to repair what leaving had done. Sarah wanted desperately to forgive. Her father had initially said no, as Toby was too young. She hadn't known til later that he'd made arrangements with Linda to send her by herself.

And then… then the accident. Before the run of this show was through. It was a tragedy that made the newspapers.

Sarah watched the play on the edge of the seat, her hand over her mouth most of the time. Her throat was thick – almost painful - and underneath the lines of the famous comedy she could hear her own heartbeat.

"Do not you love me?" Beatrice teased Benedict.

I do, Sarah whispered so silently even Jareth failed to hear.

When the curtains fell and the applause began, Sarah's face was still wet. She stood and clapped loudly, wiping her streaked cheeks.

She turned and swallowed thickly. "Can I…" She wanted to ask if she could talk to her. She already knew the answer.

The Goblin King, who had been silent throughout, shook his head slightly. "It doesn't work that way."

Thank you, she mouthed. Her throat was still too thick to speak.

A moment later they were back in the hallway.

Lizzie came round the corner. "Sarah, dearest, are you all right? You've been crying!" She scowled at Jareth.

Sarah waved a hand in embarrassment. "It's all right. Just happy tears actually. Nerves really. Will you excuse me?"

When Sarah got upstairs she saw that she still clutched the program from the theatre, her mother's face on the cover. She touched it lightly and then pressed the program between one of her books.

The family was in the midst of preparing for the family to-do. None had seemed to notice their absence. Karen had premade almost everything. When Sarah changed into an off the shoulder sweater dress, and returned downstairs to help, there was little left to do. The kitchen had even been put back to sorts.

The first guests arrived shortly after. Aunts, uncles, and cousins on both sides. A few long-standing family friends who might as well have been blood.

The house was filled with laughter and good cheer. The tables were laden with food. The drinks flowed freely. Robert made them watch Toby's performance. Lizzie seemed to have mellowed and eschewed her nap to visit with the colonials. Jareth was passed around like a shiny new toy. He smiled affably at each new person, but his eyes kept training to Sarah. Sarah, who'd brightened after the bittersweet and precious gift, kept seeking him as well. They were together but apart, insulated by a room full of well-meaning relatives.

Sarah disappeared back upstairs at one point to grab her camera from her room. Someone had made it the coat room it seemed.

Just as she pulled it free, she noticed Jareth in the doorway.

He was watching her, his expression so enigmatic that she couldn't pin down one emotion.

"Thank you for that," she said finally. They'd barely had a chance to speak. "I don't really think I can explain how much that meant to me."

"Consider it a gift from the Solstice. I wouldn't have had the power to manage it otherwise."

"No," she stepped forward. "It was you. You've been quite amazing, really."

A brow arched. "You sound surprised."

"I am," she said ruefully. "Which is perhaps unfair. But also fair - I could have done without the other gifts." There was a trace of humour in her voice.

"Consider it repayment for my shoes."

"I-"

Whatever else she'd been about to say was swallowed by his kiss. His lips were firm and insistent against hers, like he'd been holding himself back and the bindings had just suddenly broken.

She was at first taken aback but quickly recovered and then did the only sensible thing. She kissed him back.

Her hands clutched at his shirt, and then slid along his shoulders to cup his nape. His hands slid to her waist and pulled her tightly into the cradle of his hips. She could feel him hard against her already. It sent a delicious thrill straight to her core.

His mouth traced a hot path to her neck, stopping to catch her ear between uneven teeth. Another shiver rocked her.

He must have backed her up to the bed, because she felt the mattress hit her knees and then she was horizontal. His weight settled over, a knee pressing between her thighs. She instinctively clamped around him. It was as though they'd picked right back up again after the party from the evening before.

The party below was nothing more than a dull din. Easily forgotten. They'd already spent enough time there.

Sarah began unbuttoning his shirt, her fingers smoothly over the freed taut skin beneath.

Jareth's hands skimmed across her collar bone and then brushed her breasts through her dress. So lightly it made her quiver. And then he cupped her fully, his palm rolling the weight as he returned to her mouth, nipping at her lips before kissing her deeply. He deftly began sliding the dress down her shoulders until it sat just beneath her breasts.

"Wait, we can't do this now," Sarah croaked as reality sunk in.

But Jareth was staring at her chest – encased in deep red burgundy lace. So sheer, he could the tight furls of her nipples through the fabric.

When he looked back up at her, his eyes were fully dark, and his voice was rough. "You liked me other gift too, I see."

Before she could protest he bent and sucked one peak into his mouth hotly. And then he made that noise again.

Sarah's head fell back at the suckling sensation. The flick of his tongue and scrape of teeth.

His other hand traced a steady path between her legs, squeezing lightly as it reached the tender flesh of her inner thigh.

The door opened suddenly.

Jareth's head shot up and he tugged her dress back up. From Sarah's vantage upside down she could see the startled face of her brother. Though he couldn't see much, he'd obviously put two and two together.

The not-king pointed a finger, his expression murderous. "I knew I should have turned you into a goblin." His voice came out in a half-feral growl.

"What?" Toby asked.

"What?" Jareth asked, as Sarah jabbed him in the ribs.

AN: In which the author employs the cock blocking trope again. When I started this story I always knew Toby was going to walk in on them and Jareth was going to say that. #stillsorrynotsorry

Parts of this chapter got a little more maudlin than intended but I knew Jareth would give her that precious gift.

If you visit New Grange they will simulate the Winter Solstice for you. It really is amazing. Yes, I totally piggybacked the passage tomb thing from Goblin Market. As I like to say, I T.S. Elliot-ed myself.

One chapter left to go… would you look at that? One more will make lucky 13. I wanted to get this out yesterday on Bowie's birthday sadly lacked the time.

In that vein, asking for all of your good vibes if you would be so kind. This has been a… really rough week to say the least and I need a quasi-miracle for the near future.

Hope your 2019 is bright and merry. I know some of you readers are going through some very tough times yourselves, you know who you are, so I am sending good vibes your way as well

(I'm not saying there will be smut next chapter, but I'm not not saying that either ;))